Blueward Bound
by Spectral-Aspen
Summary: A college student's friend steals her car, and the next day she finds out it's been replaced by an extraterrestrial being. Now she's doing her best to get him to his comrades.
1. Azure

_[1580]_

I know there are tons (literally) of OC insert fics out there, but I wanted to make one of my own. I already typed the whole thing out, so now need to worry to this being one of those poor abandoned fics.

Titles are names for the colour blue I feel suits the chapter. Shades of blue gotten from Wikipedia page "Category:Shades of blue"

Grand word total is only around 12 000 (for the whole thing), and may or may not have a sequel.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Transformers. I doubt I will remember to put this in any of the other chapters...

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of PowellRiver. First thing this evening, we're here to report an apparent meteor crash just outside of PowellLake. A local fisherman said that he was "out on the water when what looked to be a falling star landed in the water at the northern end past Goat Island." Apparently there were no major waves generated, something that has come as a fortunate surprise to everyone. That's all we have on that story so far, but we're looking into it and will be keeping you updated._

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I've never been one to talk much. Never been the social butterfly, or the anti-social recluse. I was always a shadow. There, listening, observing, but never _really_ interacting.

It was because of this that what friends I had were rather strange. Even when I moved away for college I seemed to attract strange (but kind) sort of people.

Of course, in some circumstances, strange cannot even begin to describe the kind of friends I have.

"You're car's on the mainland," Victor said casually as he strolled up to the shaded area under a tree behind my apartment where I was casually skimming my college textbooks and notes.

For example, my friend Victor had the odd habit of randomly taking my car and leaving it in various places for me to find and retrieve.

If he didn't pay for gas before leaving it and drive better than most professional racers (due to his rather illegal hobby), I think I would mind a lot more.

"Mainland, as in hour-and-a-half-ferry-ride-away mainland? Powell River mainland? Because, really, we're less isolated than they are, and we _live_ on an island."

Victor, one of the few people I could ever actually talk to with relative ease, rolls his eyes as he sits down next to me, neither impressed nor surprised by my reluctance to take the long, dull ferry ride to the mainland. He lies down on the dry grass, preparing to endure the expected post-car-abduction rant.

"I'll give you money for the tickets, but I forget exactly where I left your car. Some place called Huckleberry?"

A dramatic sigh escapes me as I shake my head, "You Islanders will never understand," I say pathetically, "the ferries are dreaded, expensive, in almost constant need of repair, and beyond inconvenient. You," I level an accusing finger at the unruffled man beside me, "wouldn't know that! Because you are an uncultured swine that had never left Vancouver Island before meeting me! I, on the other hand," I gesture to myself, textbooks and notebooks toppling from their precarious perches on my lap, "am a world traveller and know of the true, horrific nature of the ferries! Did you know," I dramatically raise a finger, "that there are entire books? Comic books? Mocking the BC Ferries?" Victor opens his mouth to reply but I cut him off with a flourish, "Of course you don't! You've never travelled to the big cities of British Columbia (of which there are few) and seen these hilarities, so cleverly mocking the Powell Riverite's way of life!"

"Danny."

"I can't believe you would make me ride on the Queen of Rust to retrieve my beautiful car!"

"Danny."

"I know that's not what that ferry is really called, but honestly, they take it away for months on end to 'refurbish' it, and within a few weeks of it being returned, it's covered in rust again!"

"DANNY!"

I look sideways at Victor who is regarding me with undisguised irritation.

"What?"

"I liked you more when you didn't talk," he grumbles with no small amount of irony.

I can't help but snort. Victor knows as well as I do that he loves it when I go on tangents, simply because they're almost the only time I say more than a sentence; and then, it's only because we've known each other for several years and he's one of the few people I really trust.

"Right." I frown at my scattered textbooks and notes, hoping they will magically find the will to stack themselves.

Victor, upon seeing my intense stare, stacks my text books starting with the largest textbook and topping the pile with the smallest notebook. "So, do you know where Huckleberry is?" Right, back to my car.

"You mean Cranberry," I say, happy to know something he doesn't, even if it is about my hometown.

Victor just rolls his eyes, "Yeah, whatever, _Cranberry._ So, you know where it is?"

I grab my stack of school-related books and head into my condo, Victor following closely behind me. "Of course I know where it is. It's the place that has the stupidest playground zone ever."

"You're just saying that because you almost failed your driving test when the instructor made you go through there."

I carefully sort and stack my school books on my desk, "It wasn't my fault someone had planted a tree in front of the sign, stupid birch was blocking my line of sight." One of the chairs creaks as Victor sits in it, "I'll be able to find my car no problem. Cranberry's not that big. There're only, like, 3 main roads, and one of them goes from the end of Westview all the way into Townsite to the 101 Highway, which in turn goes all the way to Lund." I finally turn to face Victor, having stacked all my book in order of size, purpose, and subject. "You didn't take my car to Lund, did you?"

"No... You do know I have no idea where any of the places you're talking about are, right?" He looks bored with the topic of my car, which, considering his relatively short attention span, is understandable.

"Yes, you infidel." That's such a fun word. _Infidel._

"I believe that term refers to non-believers, or people of no faith."

"You don't believe in the Powell River way, and that makes you an infidel."

"Oh really?"

"No, I just like the word infidel."

"I figured as much."

"So... do you have money for ferry tickets?" You'd better, since it's your fault I have to buy them in the first place.

"Yeah."

"And the fuel surcharge?"

"Yeah."

"You know it's around $90 round trip, right?"

He grimaces. "Yeah."

I grab the cash. "Okay, you, out of my house! I have to go retrieve my car while there's still time left."

"Danny, it's 5 pm."

"Damn. Guess I can't go over till tomorrow. If someone's trashed or stolen my car, I'm gonna tie you to a rope and attach it to the back of the ferry, then laugh as you drown."

"That was graphic. And needlessly violent."

"That was the truth. I love my car, Vik."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not, Vik?"

"It sounds girly."

"It's better than Vicky."

"Partially."

"Shoo. I gotta plan for tomorrow."

"Right."

"I do! Bye!"

I close and lock my door, hurrying to peer out the window to make sure Victor actually leaves and doesn't stand around looking lost like he normally does. Sure enough, he's standing in my parking space, staring at the ground. He shakes his head and starts off towards Downtown Courtenay where his cousin lives.

I retreat to my desk and contemplate tomorrow. Just getting my car is going to take at _least_ an hour, likely more. I'll have to take the first ferry. Great. It leaves at 6:20 am? Means I'll have to get up by at least 5am to have time to walk to the terminal...

Damn it Victor.

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_Sensors? Limited by damage._

_Comms? Totally scrapped._

_Chances of finding the other Autobots? Very, very low._

_I manage to pull myself out of the clear dihydrogen monoxide and look around, grateful for the planet's natural nocturnal cycles. The darkness makes it harder for the local lifeforms to see me._

_I hope I can find a suitable alt-mode. _

_Something silver? Oh, it looks shiny. It's sleek, too. _

_Schematics fill my vision and I feel myself shifting to match my new altmode. _

_I wonder if the local lifeforms will find two identical silver transports in the same area suspicious? It shouldn't be too difficult to transfer everything from that transport to myself, and then destroy the original._

_I wince at the energy drain as my holoform solidifies next to the silver transport. My bi-pedal mode folds down into a silver transport identical to the one beside me, and I focus on transferring all the strange things inside of it to identical spots in my alt-mode. _

_Once that is finished, my holoform reaches into my subspace and pulls out a case of nano-bots. I carefully alter their programming and set them on the original silver transport. It slowly dissolves as the nano-bots do their job and, once all traces are gone, the nano-bots scale my holoform and file neatly into their case before I put it back into my subspace._

_I initiate recharge. Hopefully I'll be able to find the others after a decent recharge and some self-repair._

_Besides, who could possibly notice me?_

* * *

My goal is to keep these pre and post chapter things short.

What do you think so far? By the way, these places are real. They're gorgeous :)


	2. Cornflower

_[2828]_

I forgot to mention in the previous chapter, but this story has a slightly happy ending. Only slightly. If you don't like sad stories then stop reading before you discover you like my crazy characters.

The mysterious Cybertronian may be a bit out-of-character... but he probably has been through some serious scrap so it's slightly understandable.

"English"

_"Cybertronian" _(note, the radio transmission is still counted as English because there are no quotation marks.)

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of Powell River. If you'll remember, last night it was reported that a relatively large meteor landed in the northern end of Powell Lake, up past Goat Island. Local authorities have been banned from the scene by government agents, and those owning cabins within sight of the landing area have been told to evacuate for, and I quote, "safety reasons." That's all we have so far, but we'll be keeping you updated._

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**Danny**

Goddamn Victor. Seriously. Please. Damn him. Getting up at 5am in the summer, when by all rights I should be sleeping in until I can no longer logically say 'good morning,' is not how I planned to spend the first real day of summer break.

During a long, frighteningly warm walk to the ferry terminal, I have at least 5 vehicles honk at me as they drove by, further souring my mood, I mentally listed all the places Victor was likely to have left my car. My gorgeous, sleek, silver 2000 Mustang Saleen S 281.

Victor sometimes calls it Beau. When I asked why he said it was because it's the only guy I let take me anywhere.

Chances of Beau being stolen were highly unlikely, considering there were 7 other mustangs in Powell River, and one of the owners always left the doors to his unlocked and the spare key in the rear end of a dog figurine on his porch. He was one of my friend's uncles. Sweet old guy. He always let me know if he saw my car randomly parked around town. Victor usually parked it around Courtenay or Comox, but it wasn't too unusual for him to leave it in Powell River. Probably why I complain about the ferries so much.

I walk along the shoulder of the highway, silently praying I won't get hit every time I hear a vehicle behind me. (Seriously, the shoulder is really narrow.)

The ferry terminal eventually comes into sight; a tiny affair consisting of a ticket booth, a visitor's waiting area and parking lot, a passenger waiting area and parking lot (for some reason separated from the visitor section by concrete dividers and a 6 foot fence) and several other buildings with heavy locks and signs that declare 'STAFF ONLY.'

I quickly pay for my ticket with Victor's money before wandering over to the passenger's waiting area. It's 6:10 in the morning. The passenger's parking lot is almost empty, though because it's Wednesday there are a few food trucks waiting to go over. I only have to wait about 10 minutes with a lovey-dovey-newly-wed couple before a BC Ferry worker lets us all walk on.

I make my way up to the passenger deck and wander outside, grabbing a spot on top of a giant box with a green life-jacket symbol boldly displayed on the front. Quickly setting my watch alarm for 7:40, I lie down and curl around my backpack before falling into a light doze as the ferry horn bellows to signal our departure.

I jerk awake as my alarm goes off, and look around to see we're around 10 minutes away from the Powell River terminal. I do a brief check over my backpack to make sure nobody stole anything before heading down to the vehicle deck. I sit down off to the side as the ferry docks, and the newly-weds are obviously new to the whole ferry thing because they both almost fall over from the slight impact of docking. Then the ramp goes down, the barrier is put away, and I stride off the ferry.

I walk past the people and rows of vehicles waiting to catch the ferry back to Courtenay.

After that I stride up the little hill to downtown Powell River. Downtown is only about 1 km long, then I'm back down on the beach trail that leads to Townsite. I see a few people, mostly dog owners, and a handful of squirrels, before turning up off the main trail onto the shortcut to Townsite.

I come out in someone's backyard and carefully walk along the property line to the road. I look up the hill at Powell River's only high school, and then 2 km past it to the top of the hill that marks the edge of Cranberry. With a quick sigh I begin the inevitable trek, carefully crossing the 101 Highway before walking straight across school grounds and up through the newly developed area.

I'm panting by the time I reach the top, and already feel like I'm baking in the incessant morning's sunlight. I start jogging, eyes scanning for any sight of Beau; past the track, across the pole-line, past the cemetery and playground, through downtown Cranberry (the entire block), and finally down the long hill to Mowat Bay. I hope Victor left my car here, otherwise I'm going to have to slog back up that hill.

As I run past the little playground and resting flock of Canadian geese I spot my car.

The parking lot is rather full, though considering it's about 10am on the first real day of summer (meaning the schools are finally finished for the year) that's not too surprising.

My beautiful mustang is sitting at the far end of the parking lot by the boat-ramp, looking exactly the same as it did before Victor nabbed it.

I put on a burst of speed before coming to a stop next to Beau. It looks a little worse for wear, and I pause, keys halfway out of my backpack. There's no way Victor would have been careless enough to damage Beau, and if Victor had been in an accident he'd have told me.

I hope.

Regardless of the weird looks some people shoot my way, I walk around Beau, carefully taking in all the tiny dents and scratches littering its frame. It even looks like some blue fluids were leaking from some of the deeper scratches.

It looks like Victor drove through a blackberry bush and got attacked by a mountain lion.

As I walk past the front, I notice a small symbol has been etched into the hood, just above the grill. I crouch down to get a closer look at it before pulling out my reading glassed in irritation. I can make out what looks like a very complex, albeit carefully drawn, grumpy face.

Weird.

As I resolve to ask Victor what the heck he did to my car, I hear Beau's engine rumble. If I wasn't in the empty half of the parking lot and a fair distance away from all the chattering sunbathers and squealing children, I'd have never heard it. As it is, I can just make it out.

"What the heck happened to you?"

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**? (Beau)**

I come online to see one of the local lifeforms moving quickly towards me. I send out a quick area scan, and realize that while I've been recharging 15 more transport vessels of different shapes, colours, and sizes have come to rest in the area, and that there are far more of the dominant local lifeforms about. Some of the smaller ones appear to be in the liquid dihydrogen monoxide, with a few larger ones sitting immobile on the green hill.

I keep a sensor on the lifeform as it slows beside me before starting to walk around my new alt-mode, carefully inspecting me.

Its movements are very similar to a Cybertronian's, one with a bi-pedal base mode that is.

I quickly access the planet's information network and am shocked by the sheer volume of information. Though I do manage to find a program containing several languages commonly spoken on this planet and download them all, before searching for information on the local lifeform itself.

It appears to be a "female human," though the network suggest that such short "hair" makes it a "male." I try to find out why this hair substance would impact the lifeform's gender, but can't seem to find any consistent answers that make sense.

She (what a strange sounding word) pauses in front of me before crouching down. I take a brief moment to marvel at her flexibility. Cybertronains have limited movement due to the nature of our armour, but this female's outer coatings (skin and clothing, apparently) appear to squish and move in a way that allows for increased agility. Wheeljack would have loved this world. I wonder if he's still online.

My engine quietly rumbles at the memory of one of my dearest friends, and I see the female give me what appears to be a suspicious look. Her face is as mobile as the rest of her form, and I marvel at the emotions it is clearly displaying. The expressions are like my own, only far more exaggerated. Suspicion. Confusion. Anger. A Cybertronian would be hard pressed to make such clear expressions.

"What the heck happened to you?"

The female is addressing me? No. That can't be right.

I look up the meaning of this 'heck,' seeing as it wasn't in the general language program.

Heck- a euphemistic alliteration of Hell.

Hell-any place of torment or misery; alternately, the place or state of punishment for the wicked after death.

Since the human used such a word so carelessly, I get the feeling I'm missing something.

"What is the issue?"

Almost before I finish speaking I realize my mistake.

I talked to her.

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**Danny**

"What is the issue?"

I leap back from Beau, almost running into a concrete block and falling on my butt. As it is I flail about before regaining my balance.

I take a deep breath and look around to see if anyone has noticed what just happened. Nope. No weird looks. Okay. Beau just talked. Nicely. It (is Beau even an 'it' anymore?) was nice to me. I can be nice back.

"What did you just say?"

Beau doesn't answer. Just sits there, pouring on the innocent car act.

I can't help but frown at it. "Um, Beau? You going to answer me? I know you can."

Beau's engine gives an angry sounding rumble.

"My designation is not Beau."

Great. Now it's being snippy. So much for being nice.

"Well sorry for calling you what I've called you for the last three years. Unless, of course, you did something to my _real _car?" If this _thing _has destroyed my real car I'm going to drive it into the lake.

I see Not-Beau roll back a bit before carefully replying. "When translated into this language, I believe my designation would be along the lines of 'Bluestreak.'"

It's avoiding the question. "My real car is where?"

Bluestreak seems to sink a little lower in his tires. "Your original transport is no longer functional. I thought that two identical transports sitting side by side would be too suspicious, so I destroyed the original. Apologies."

Deep breaths. Maybe I can convince the government to pay for it?

No. Then I'd have to tell them an alien destroyed my real car when said alien looks _exactly _like my real car. They'd think I'm crazy.

Am I crazy?

I manage to shove all thoughts of my deceased Beau to the back of my mind, instead focusing on the alien's 'designation.'

"Your name is Bluestreak?"

"...Yes."

I do a quick once-over of the mustang. "But… you're not blue."

I hear what sounds like a sigh, "My colouring has nothing to do with my designation, human. In your language a blue streak is both a quickly moving object and a stream of continuous, rapid, or interminable speech."

One of my grandmother's old sayings comes to mind. "So, it's blue streak like, 'you're talking up a blue streak?'"

I hear the sigh again. "Yes."

"Hey!" I whip around to see an old high school acquaintance walking over, I think his name is Dylan. "Danny, right?"

I nod at him before leaning closer to Bluestreak, "Don't talk to him. Don't say anything he might hear, okay? Just… be a normal car."

Bluestreak seems to settle down on his wheels, but otherwise doesn't answer.

I look back as Dylan strides up. He's just wearing swim shorts, and I see several girls cast jealous looks my way. "Hey Dylan."

"What's up Danny? Haven't seen you in a while." His mirrored sunglasses are reflecting sunlight directly into my eyes.

I shrug and try to discreetly move my head so I'm not being blinded. "Not much. Living in Courtenay now. You?"

Dylan flips his relatively long blond hair out of his face, sending drops of water across my sweaty t-shirt and face. I jerk back reflexively, and fall back onto Bluestreak's hood with a metallic thud. I feel Bluestreak tremble, and quickly stand up, ignoring the pain from where my skin touched the dry blue fluids. Looking up I see Dylan trying not to laugh, though I hear several others that aren't so restrained. I glare at him, and his smile quickly disappears.

This is why I avoid people.

I stand up and give Dylan a tight smile. "Nice seeing you." I gently put my keys in the lock, wondering how Bluestreak will react to me trying to drive him.

Dylan doesn't say anything, just watches as I quickly pull out and drive away. Bluestreak remains silent until we're exiting Cranberry.

"Why did you leave so quickly?"

I glance at the speakers, not entirely sure that's where the voice came from. "I'm not very good with other people. Besides, Dylan was never a very nice guy, and while he didn't laugh outright at me when I fell on you, -sorry about that, by the way- I can tell he hasn't changed much."

"Oh. Okay. Where are we going?" I still can't figure out exactly where his voice is coming from.

"Saved-On Foods. I didn't have breakfast on the way over here."

"Alright. Wouldn't it be lunch, or brunch though, because it's so late in the solar cycle?"

"I think the human term would be day, not solar cycle. No, it wouldn't be, because breakfast is technically the first meal of the day regardless of what time it is, because you are breaking the fast. Fasting is when you don't eat for any real length of time, and since human don't normally eat at night it's considered fasting."

"Oh..."

Bluestreak stays quiet until we're pulling into a parking space. "Would it be possible for you to get some fuel for me as well? Or would this 'gas station' be at a different location?"

"Can you use gasoline?"

"I believe I would be able to convert it into a suitable fuel source after a more detailed analysis."

"Sure. I'll take you to the nearest station after I grab something to eat. Sound good?"

"Yes."

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_"Ratchet. Do you have the landing co-ordinates?"_

_"Of course I do. Unfortunately they place the landing site somewhere in Canada, which means that we have to get permission from the Canadian Government before going to retrieve our mech."_

_"Are you sure it's a Bot?"_

_"Of course I am, Ironhide."_

_"Easy you two. Ratchet. How long would it take for us to reach the landing site?"_

_"Normally it would only be 3 hours via human aircraft. Unfortunately the nearest settlement is a city called Powell River, and the local airport is far too small for anything other than propeller aircraft to land safely. We would have to land at either the Vancouver International Airport, or go farther north to the Comox Air Force Base. From Vancouver the journey would be approximately 6 hours and included two rides on human boats called 'ferries.' A ferry ride is also required from the Air Force Base to Powell River, but it is only 1.3 hours."_

_"Well frag... What if our Bot moves? Can we track him?"_

_"His comm. line and transmitter appear to have been damaged in the landing."_

_"So that'd be a no?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Are there any Decepticons heading toward his location?"_

_"Not that I can tell."_

_"Do we have anyone in the area?"_

_"The idiots are patrolling northern Washington, along the Canadian border. They're supposed to come back tomorrow." _

_"Tell them to monitor the border crossings for any sign of our comrade. If he knew to come to Earth, he should know the approximate location of our base."_

_"What are the chances he'll find us?"_

_"If he encounters a human that is willing to assist him, then he may be able to get to us before his energy reserves run out."_

_"What if he uses human fuel?"_

_"All the human fuel on Earth will do him no good is he is heavily damaged."_

_"Is he?"_

_"His landing was extremely poor. I believe that he must have severe damage to come in as he did."_

_"I will let our allies know."_

_"Let us hope that we can find him in time."_

* * *

Thoughts?


	3. Steel

_[1216]_

Short chapter. Bluestreak starts babbling a bit... Danny and Blue finally leave Powell River.

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of PowellRiver. Access to the northern end of PowellLake is still blocked by government agents, and we have reports that the blockade is being moved to cover everything from HaywireBay Campground and up. The campground itself is still open, but I doubt it will be for long. Chances are the whole lake will soon be barricaded, and I've even had a few people say they've seen what appear to be government cars monitoring the ferry line-ups. Tread carefully folks. That's all we have so far, but we'll be keeping you updated._

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**Bluestreak**

I was finding my attention was constantly being drawn to different things. The fuel station had been very brightly coloured, and there had even been another transport vehicle like my alt-mode there! Of course, Danny said it was a newer model, and had called its colouring "a mixture of puke and lime green," which didn't sound nearly as nice as it looked.

It was weird, letting Danny drive, but I didn't know what we were doing or where we were going. Danny explained everything to me with remarkable patience when I asked. All the information on this planet could not tell me what she was thinking about. After I managed to sort through all the information I'd downloaded I felt much more comfortable, though it was fascinating to hear what Danny thought of everything. She is a very intelligent human, though she did say that she hardly ever talked this much, especially around people she'd just met. I told her I don't usually stop talking, and she said we'd probably get along rather well.

After that we'd gone down to a 'ferry terminal' and waited around for, in human time units, approximately an hour and thirty minutes. Danny had to purchase a specialized pass to get us on the ferry, she called it a ticket, that was apparently outrageously expensive. Of course, I was only going by her quiet swearing, but after looking up the meanings of the words she was using  
I figured it was best to keep quiet for a while.

All the humans stayed in their separate transports, and most appeared to be in recharge. I could see a large white thing coming towards us across the water, and when I asked Danny told me that it was the ferry.

The ferry was huge, for a human vessel (if my alt-mode was anything to go by), and I easily fit on it along with all the other vehicles. Danny told me that the ride was around one hour and twenty minutes, and that if I wanted to be alone she would go up to a level for humans. The space I was in was cramped, and there were vehicles boxing me in. It was fairly dark, the ferry's engine was loud and made everything vibrate.

I asked her to stay. She said she would, and that I could talk as much as I liked so long as I made sure there were no other humans around to hear me. I knew I was supposed to keep a low profile, so I agreed.

Danny asked me if I'd been to any other planets, and I told her all about some of the other lifeforms I'd encountered. I couldn't show her any images while I was in my altmode, but I told her I'd show her when I could. She said it didn't matter, and that sometimes it was more fun to just imagine.

We talked the whole ride, and I only had to stop once when an elderly human male walked by holding a small foul smelling thing giving off toxic fumes. Danny actually went up to the man and told him that he wasn't allowed to have one of those things on the vehicle level. Something to do with gasoline and fumes? When I asked Danny she said it was a cigarette, and that in order to use one you lit one end on fire and breathed the smoke in through the opposite end. I asked her why any human would do such a horrible thing, but she said everyone is allowed to "do their own thing," whatever that means.

Danny drove off the ferry and along some roads that quickly got much larger than any I'd seen in Powell River. We drove to her place of residence, something called a condo, and Danny said that we would have to wait until tomorrow to get to Vancouver, and then we would be able to head to the Autobot Base. I'd told her all I knew, which was that it was in a place called Nevada. The exact co-ordinates had been corrupted, but she said that we'd be able to find it.

She spent the rest of the day making "last minute adjustments," and I heard her communicating with several people via a 'telephone.' She spent a particularly long time talking to a human male named Victor. Apparently he was the reason Danny's car had been where it was. He sounded nice, and I was grateful that he'd left her car there. If he hadn't, I'd have had to enter a residential area to find a suitable alt-mode, and I would imagine the human owning it would most likely be far less cooperative and accepting than Danny was being.

If I switched to thermal vision I could see her walking around her small living space, packing what she called "essential supplies." I had no idea what she considered essential, so I kept to myself. At one point she came out and opened a small compartment on the passenger side, pulling out some papers and quickly glancing through them. When I'd asked she said they were insurance papers and something called proof of ownership. The last ones meant she hadn't stolen me. I was glad I'd thought to transfer everything from her original vehicle to my alt-mode before destroying it.

About thirty minutes after Danny went back inside to pack a few more things before she came out to talk to me. "We're going to have to leave at around 5 am tomorrow to catch the Nanaimo-Vancouver ferry. It's a two hour drive, though the ferry doesn't leave until 7:45. That'll give us a little extra time in case we need it. The actual ferry ride is two hours."

Danny hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more, before shaking her head and going back inside. She paused before entering her condo. "Goodnight, Bluestreak." I flashed my headlights in response, and saw her smile before fully entering her condo and quickly falling into recharge. I powered down all my systems, enough that I didn't give off any kind of Cybertronian signal unless you were right next to me, and quietly slipped into recharge.

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_"Anything from the twins?"_

_"Not yet, Prime. Have a little patience, it's not even been a whole human day."_

_"I know, but I worry for our comrade."_

_"As do we all."_

* * *

There actually is a mustang in Powell River that is coloured mixture of puke and lime green. It has 2 black racing strips down the middle too. DX

Thoughts?


	4. Tufts

_[2441]_

**In case you missed it last time, this story only has a moderately happy ending.**

There. Now you've been warned in bolded letters. I feel better.

Most of this story has very little action. This is fairly obvious here. Please stay with me... action-y scenes do eventually come up. I promise!

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of PowellRiver. It's been confirmed that all access to the peninsula is being monitored, so be prepared to deal with government agents if you plan on entering or leaving PowellRiver. Some people have reported seeing some government vehicles with American licence plates around town too, so be on the lookout. We'll be keeping you posted throughout the day._

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**Bluestreak**

A quiet beeping rouses me, and I can hear Danny's quiet swearing. Something about it being far too early to deal with everything. She grabs the bags she packed the day before and walks out of her condo to where I'm parked.

"Do you mind if I put this in your trunk?" She holds up the larger of the two bags, "It just has clothes and toiletries in it."

It hardly looks heavy enough to cause any problems. "I don't mind at all. What's in the other bag?"

Danny looks at her little green bag and shrugs, "Everything that I need. A spare set of clothes, rain jacket, cell phone, passport, visa, debit card, keys, first aid supplies, protein bars, water bottle, as well as a paintball handgun and ammo."

I find myself silently approving Danny's travel supplies. She is carrying the human equivalents to much of what I always have in my subspace. Of course, I have a great deal more than what could possibly fit in her backpack, and a lot more lethal weapons, but overall everything is very similar.

"You travel well prepared Danny. Not many would think to bring such a variety of supplies."

Danny carefully sets her larger bag in my trunk, and I subspace it once she closes it. Just to keep it safe, and that way if I have to transform it won't get caught in my joints and ripped to shreds.

"I've always been overly cautious when travelling, though I wouldn't bring the paintball gun if I was going on a plane. That would be a _really _dumb idea."

Danny sets her backpack on the passenger seat before walking around to settle in the driver's seat. "Do you mind if I drive, at least until we reach the 19 Highway?"

"Of course not. You know this area far better than I do, and I wouldn't want to get us lost. What is the highway like?"

Danny looks surprised when I start my engine without the use of her keys before shrugging it off and pulling out of her parking space. She carefully drives around to the front of the building before pulling onto the road and driving slowly through the residential area.

"The 19 highway is the main highway on Vancouver Island, and if it weren't for the intersections along it then it would be classified as a freeway"

Danny pulls out onto a busy street, swearing as the driver beside us almost _sideswipes_ me. I cringe internally at the term, hastily shoving thoughts of a certain energetic red warrior and his enigmatic yellow twin out of my processor.

"What is a freeway, and how is it different from a highway?"

Danny smiles, oblivious to my internal conflict. "Well, not many people actually know the differences between the two. My parents had me take a driving course over here though, and it was one of the first things they taught us. A highway can be as small as one lane going in each direction, doesn't usually have a speed limit above 80 km/h, and has intersections instead of on-ramps. A freeway is usually more than two lanes going in each direction, has some kind of divider between opposite lanes of traffic, has on-ramps instead of intersections and stop lights, and the speed limit is usually over 100 km/h. Freeways are also a lot flatter than highways, and have banked corners to make things easier."

As we drive towards the highway I quiz Danny on anything I can think of that she would be able to answer to help keep my thoughts focused on the present. We eventually get to the highway, after quite a few turns and near accidents I learn that Danny can swear in French and German as well as she can in English.

"Do you want to drive now? The next hour is basically just staying on the highway until we get to the right exit."

I contemplate the wide, empty expanse of road before us. "Sure. It'd be good practice, not that I'm not a good driver or anything, but technically I haven't driven around in this alt-mode yet."

Danny slowly takes her hands off the steering wheel, "Okay. This is kind of weird for me." She's staring at the wheel, seemingly fascinated by it as we go around a wide turn. "I'll just pretend to drive if someone tries to pass us. I'd rather not attract any unwanted attention, and a car driving itself down the 19 Highway would certainly do that."

I slowly pick up speed until we're going about 30 km above the speed limit, confident that I'll be able to detect any government officials before they can catch me speeding.

Danny glances at the speedometer, "Last time I went this fast I was in Germany," she says casually.

"Why were you in Germany?"

"I was on an exchange. The family I was staying with took me to a wedding, and to Switzerland. The mother liked driving at around 140 km, and the father liked driving at around 190 km. The autobahn, that's what their freeways are called, doesn't have a speed limit unless you're going through a residential area or there's some roadwork being done."

The rest of the drive passes quickly, Danny telling me all about her exchange and how strange it was to be in such a different place. I can't help but compare it to my own travels to different planets. The comparisons are rather similar. Different landscape, language, customs, history, and even different day-to-day lifestyles.

Danny looks up as we pass another of the large green signs, "This is our exit! Slow down and pull into the turning lane. If nobody's coming in the opposite direction, just make the turn." I do as she says, and we are soon driving through a city that, to me at least, looks remarkably similar to the one we just came from. "Do you mind If I drive now, Bluestreak?"

"Of course not."

Danny drives us through the maze of houses, apartments, and malls to the ferry terminal. "This one is called the Duke Point ferry terminal, and we're going to end up at the Tsawwassen ferry terminal." When I ask Danny how to say Tsawwassen, she says that she's never heard the proper way to pronounce it. She advises "sounding it out," but I still get the feeling I'm saying it wrong.

We end up waiting for approximately one hour and fourty five minutes before the ferry pulls in. This one is considerably larger than the previous one, and has multiple vehicle levels. We get to go on the upper level, though Danny looks nervous. She keeps glancing around and can't seem to focus on anything.

"This is a ferry much like the other one we took, so why are you so nervous?"

Danny looks briefly at my radio before quickly looking around again. "I've never taken this ferry, and it's a lot bigger than the ones I'm used to. That, and the fact that I'm a very paranoid traveller, means that I'll probably be this nervous the whole ride."

I start talking to her. Just random thoughts that come to mind. I make sure to talk quietly enough that people passing by won't be able to hear me over the ferry's engines. Slowly Danny focuses on what I'm saying instead of what's going on around us, and I can feel her relaxing.

In what seems like no time at all the announcement informing everyone the ferry is docking comes on, and Danny smiles at me. "Thanks, Blue. That really helped." Then she looks nervous again, "Do you mind if I call you Blue? I won't if you don't want me to. I can come up with something else, or just call you by your full name."

Last time I was called Blue was when I saw Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and it brings back memories that I struggle to suppress. "Maybe something else?" I manage to say, my voice sounding a little strained.

Danny winces, "Sorry. Don't worry though, I'll be able to come up with something really different no problem."

She leans back and closes her eyes as we wait for our lane to start offloading.

As soon as we pull off the ferry we speed up. The road widens more than it ever did in Courtenay. Two lanes turn into three, into four, into five, and that's just going in one direction! It's like a human sized version of one of the great roads that used to cross Cybertron.

"Hey Bluestreak."

Danny's voice drags me out of my wayward thoughts.

"Yeah Danny?"

"What was your job? Back on Cybertron? Did you even have a job?"

"No. I- I wasn't even a fully-framed mech before the war started, much less one capable of working."

I see Danny wince again, and a tense silence settles between us. I see her go to speak several times, but she never actually makes a sound.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" She asks quietly, looking incredibly nervous.

"Not at all." She pushes a few buttons and a variety of nice sounds fills the air. I see Danny noticeably relax and a small smile curves her lips as she mouths the words to the song. Something about it being "nine in the afternoon," with "eyes the size of the moon." I don't understand most of what is being said, but the sounds are nice.

Then another song comes on, and another, and another, and pretty soon and hour has gone by in relatively companionable silence.

Suddenly Danny speaks up, talking just loud enough to be heard above the music, "I could call you Beau."

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**Danny**

"I could call you Beau."

Did I just say that out loud?

What am I thinking? As if Bluestreak would want me to call him Beau, he might be worried his comrades would get the wrong idea. Would his team mates even think that _that _is a possibility?

Stupid.

"If the name reminds you of your old car then you do not have to call me that."

I can't help but laugh a bit, "Bluestreak, you've lost so much more than I will ever be able to comprehend. The fact that I called my car Beau and it's now gone is nothing in comparison. I'll call you Beau, if you don't mind of course."

I wonder what he thinks of my seeming need to give him some kind of nickname. Does he think I'm a total weirdo?

"I do not mind at all, Danny. Is Danny your full name? Or merely a nickname like Beau?"

Oh dear. Why does such a simple question always make me so sad? I hastily reach up and wipe a tear away, hoping Bluestreak didn't notice.

"Danny? Are you alright?"

Of course he noticed.

A ragged laugh escapes me. "I'm fine, and one would think that, by now, I'd be able to answer this question easier." Deep breaths. Just take deep breaths. "Daniel was my twin sister. She was killed a few years ago when we were staying with some friends in the states. Someone broke in to the place we were staying at while I was out at a meeting, and our friends were at work. She was attacked and killed, and we never found out who did it." Thank the stars Bluestreak is capable of driving, I don't think I'm in any position to right now. "My actual name is Samantha, but I figured I'd honour my sister by having everyone call me by her nickname." I give a weak shrug, "We looked so similar, some people just assumed I was her anyways." I reach over to my backpack and grab a tissue, trying to stop the tears that are steaming down my face.

Bluestreak doesn't say anything while I try to get myself back together. He waits for me to stop fidgeting and put the used tissues in my backpack before speaking. "I didn't have any siblings, such family arrangements were rare on Cybertron, but I have lost close friends. I cannot apologize for you loss and expect it to make you feel any better, as others seem to do, but I can say that I understand what you are going through. If-" Bluestreak hesitates, as if he's not sure he should continue, "-if you ever need to talk to me about it, I will be here to listen."

I almost start crying again. No one, not my parents, not my friends, seem to understand exactly how deep the loss of my twin goes; and here comes Bluestreak, a mechanical being that's not even from Earth, saying the most honest and thoughtful thing anyone has said since my sister died. Nothing can truly convey my gratitude, so I settle for a simple "Thank you."

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_"Hey Boss-bot. Guess what I just picked up?"_

_"Heyz man, I picked it up too yah know."_

_"Course I know! We're twins dumbaft!"_

_"What is it Skids? Mudflap?"_

_"We're picking up the Bot's signature!"_

_"Yeah Boss. It's not too far from us!"_

_"It's gonna come cross the border at the white tunnel thing."_

_"It's called the Peace Arch yah glitch-face."_

_"Who you callin glitch-face?"_

_"Who'd yah think?"_

_"Prime to Ratchet."_

_"What is it? I'm busy."_

_"The twins have picked up our Bot's signal. I need you to go with Ironhide via human aircraft to the nearest suitable landing strip to pick him up."_

_"Of course Prime. I will inform Ironhide."_

_"Hey Boss. We do good?"_

_"Yes. You did good."_

_"Yah are talking bout both of us, right? No way this dumb-aft did better than me!"_

* * *

Sorry if the last bit was confusing, what with there not being any way to tell who's saying what. That is slightly intentional... and those two's accents are killing me. I hate accents. Especially typing them. Bleh.

Thoughts?


	5. UCLA

[1967]

Chapter title is a shade of blue off the Wikipedia page **Category: Shades of Blue**. There is no significant meaning behind the mysterious letters.

Border crossings suck.

"English talking"

_name: comm talk (English)_

_"Cybertronian comm talking"_

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of Powell River. Someone just came in and told us that last night another two meteors landed in Powell Lake, and these two created some pretty big waves. The poor fellow's house was swamped, the Shingle Mill and marina have sustained some pretty heavy damage, and there was some minor damage to the dam. Apparently we're only hearing about this now because government agents are patrolling the area far more heavily than they were yesterday. Be on the look out for anything strange folks. Weird things are happening, and I get a feeling that nobody wants to be around when things go down. We'll keep you updated._

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**Bluestreak**

"Are we there yet? I know I asked that a few minutes ago, but seriously, how can you tell we're getting any closer? There are so many buildings here!"

I hear Danny sigh, and feel a little bad for bothering her with my questions. I'm just trying to cheer her up, she got really sad when she told me about her sister.

"Almost there Beau. We've only been driving for about an hour."

"I know, I know; but it seems so much longer! Everything is a little overwhelming here, and there are so man humans!"

I hear Danny laugh a bit, and I feel better now that she seems to be happy again. "Vancouver is the biggest city in British Columbia, Beau. It makes sense that there'd be a lot of people living here."

I look around us with a little more interest, "This is the biggest city in your home province?"

Danny laughs again, "Yeah, it is. I don't really like though, it because there are so many people. I like Courtenay a lot more because it's so quiet."

Guilt wells up, "Sorry for all the trouble I've cause you, Danny."

Danny gives my steering wheel a small smile, she seems to have decided that's where I can see her from. I don't bother telling her I can't actually see her, but that she registers on my internal scans. "It's fine, Beau, really. I've been meaning to travel somewhere for a while now. You just got me moving."

I don't want to upset her, so I refrain from telling her exactly how much she will potentially be losing by helping me. I should have when we first met, but I was so glad to have found someone willing to help me I didn't.

She won't be able to tell anyone, and will be monitored frequently to ensure her safety. Decepticons will probably go after her. She-

_Unknown: Hey, Autobot! What's your status?_

_Unknown 2: Yeah Bot. What's your status?_

I swerve a bit in surprise, and Danny starts swearing. German, French, and English curses stream from her mouth with ease, and I decide to put the comm. line through my speakers so Danny can talk back to the Bots if she wants to.

_Bluestreak: Designation: Bluestreak. Status. Short range comms: functional. Long range comms: scrapped. Signal jammer: scrapped. _

_Unknown: Wow man. You're slagged real bad._

_Unknown 2: What'd yah do? Trip and fall in a smelter?_

"Um, Beau? What's going on?" Danny's looking between the road and my speakers with no small amount of trepidation.

_Unknown: Yo. Bluestreak. Who the frag was dat?_

_Unknown 2: Yeah man. Who was dat?_

I think I know who the two bots are, but I'm not sure. There are several bots with that particular accent.

"These are two of my comrades, Danny."

_Unknown: Yo. Skids. You know what a Danny is?_

I sigh as my suspicions are confirmed. It's the twins.

_Skids: Nah bro. I dunno what a Danny is. Maybe it's a fleshy?_

_Mudflap: I dunno bro, it didn't sound all that smart. Or brave._

Oh no.

_Skids: Yeah. It sounded scared. _

I see Danny glare at my speakers, and she starts speaking before I can stop her.

"I am _not _an it! I am a human female and you will refer to me as such! How would you like it if I called you both 'its'? You're damn lucky I'm not standing where you are right now, or I'd be yelling at you so loud your audios would glitch. You knew I was listening, so next time, before you start talking about me like I'm not _listening _to_ everything _you're_ saying,_ maybe you should consider asking _me _your questions! And I'm not scared! I'm curiously wondering why two random voices are suddenly coming out of the speakers! Is that so strange? I don't think so!"

Danny had told me she was always quiet for a human, especially around those she didn't know very well, and until now she'd seemed like that kind of person.

I was seriously considering re-evaluating the whole personality profile I've drawn up for her.

"Um.. Danny?" Her glare switched from my speakers to the steering wheel.

"What?" Her hands are gripping my wheel tightly, and I can tell she is furious.

"Can you loosen your grip a bit?"

She looks at the small dents her fingers are leaving in my steering wheel and almost lets go of it completely, "I'm so sorry Beau! I didn't realize I was doing that!"

A snicker echoes through my speakers, but Danny and I both ignore it.

"There! There's the border crossing." Danny points out my windshield, relief filling her voice.

I focus where she's pointing, but all I can see is a line-up of vehicles.

I say as much, and Danny gives me a small smile, "The actual crossing is past the Peace Arch. I have to show my passport and tell the officer why I'm going to the US and how long I plan on staying for. If they think I'm suspicious we'll have to go into a building, more officers will search you to see if I'm hiding any weapons, drugs, or other illegal things like Kinder Surprises. I'll probably have to fill out a few forms if that happens, and it can take a really long time. If the officer doesn't think we're suspicious we'll be able to go right through."

Humans are so complicated!

_Skids: Yo. Girly. What's a Kinder Surprise?_

Of course that would be what he picked up on out of all of that.

Danny goes from happy-to-share-information mode to her newly discovered hate-the-twins mode in an instant, but she still grudgingly them what it is. I have to admit, I'm curious too.

"A Kinder Surprise is a hollow chocolate egg. Inside the egg is a kid's toy. They're illegal in the States because they're apparently a choking hazard, though they're legal pretty much everywhere else."

_Mudflap: Dat's a load of slag._

Mudflap appears to have lost all sense of tact he had when we last met, not that it was a lot to begin with, but he's far worse now that ever before.

Danny's practically hissing at my speakers now, for a human she sounds and looks quite fierce. She could probably surprise Ratchet if he ever offended her (not match him, nobody can match Ratchet). "You saying I'm lying?"

_Skids: Uh- No- My bro was just sayin' dat illegal chocolate is slag. Ya know? I mean... Chocolate sounds like pretty good stuff so-_

_Mudflap: -what I meant was for good stuff ta be illegal is slag. No you, girly._

Danny relaxes back with a smirk. "Good save."

Up ahead of us something akin to a traffic light turns green, and all the vehicles start moving forwards. We end up having to stop again though, because the light turns red again.

This is so slow.

Sure enough, the twins echo my sentiments.

_Skids: Ya guys are movin pretty slowly._

_Mudflap: Yeah, we're all waitin fo yah! Hurry da slag up._

Of course, I can't let them know I'm thinking almost exactly the same thing they are.

_Bluestreak: Apologies, but we are obeying the laws of humans. If you wish to explain to Optimus why we caused an incident on the Canada-US border due to your impatience, be my guest._

Danny snickers. "Good one, Beau."

I feel a sense of pride at her compliment. "Thank you."

_Skids: So... Bluestreak. Yah gonna tell us why da frag yah landed so far from da base?_

Just like that, the pride is gone.

_Mudflap: Yeah man, the info-pack you must 'ave got had da co-ordinates in it. Even we landed closer dan you did._

I watch as Danny twitches and clenches her jaw, looking increasingly irritated at the twins' pestering... or maybe it's their accents... or their personalities...

_Bluestreak: I did receive the co-ordinates of the base, but I did not want to land in such a heavily populated area when there was a far less populated site not too far from it. _

_Skids: Man, we in da middle of a slagging desert, dere ain't no population tah worry bout._

_Bluestreak: Be that as it may, there are considerably more beings surrounding the base than there were where I chose to land. Additionally, my re-entry gear was damaged and a dry-landing would have potentially off-lined me. As eager as I was to get to the Autobot Base and be reunited with you all, I value my spark just a bit more. The only places I could have made the landing I did near the base also happened to be near densely populated areas, thus prompting me to land elsewhere._

_Mudflap: Woah man, no need to flip shit at us! We was just askin' cause Hatchet was worried yah might be close ta off-lining cause of injuries or somethin'._

_Bluestreak: Well I'm not. I do have injuries, but they are nowhere near fatal._

_Skids: I'll tell 'im now. Don' want the old codger to 'ave a spark-attack or anything if yah guys keep takin' so long..._

Danny seems to have calmed herself, though she is giving my speakers thoughtful looks. "How did you two learn so many human words and phrases?"

_Skids: Well now, dere's this thing you organic 'ave, called da in-ter-net, and dumbaft and me 'ave been browsin it._

_Mudflap: Yeah. You humans 'ave a lot of reproduction related videos on dah in-ter-net._

It's almost alarming how red Danny's face gets at Mudflap's statement, though I don't understand why.

_Bluestreak: I have noticed this as well. Danny? Would you care to explain the human fascination with various ways of reproducing to us?_

Danny's mouth starts opening and closing, but no sound comes out. Her face gets even redder. Now I'm concerned.

I switch off the comm. feed through my speakers so the twins can't hear us. "Are you alright, Danny? You do not have to explain anything to us if it makes you uncomfortable."

She shakes her head and takes several deep breaths. Her face slowly goes back to its normal colour, and she gestures for me to run the comm. line through my speakers again.

_Skids: Yo. You two still dere?_

Danny snorts. "Where else would we be? Anyways," I can't help but laugh as the twins' indignant sputtering filters through the speakers at being cut off by Danny, "there are some things you should know about human reproduction. Firstly, we call it many things, but the proper terms include sex, sexual intercourse..."

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_"Ravage. Buzzsaw. Status?"_

_"We I had to deal with the local lifeforms, but they are easily taken down. Following the Autobot signal now."_

_"Well done. ETA?"_

_"One local hour. We will have to cross the mountains and navigate the large city-center."_

_"Confirmed. Stay hidden. Do not alert Autobots to your presence."_

_"Affirmative."_

_"Of course, Soundwave."_

_"Mission. Retrieve Autobot organic for Shockwave."_

_"Of course, Soundwave._

_"Mission confirmed."_

* * *

Poor Danny... Skids and Mudflap are like children... that swear... and easily offend everyone... and are beyond annoying...

Thoughts?


	6. Federal

_[1291-ish]_

This was originally 2 chapters... but they were so short I condensed them.

_name: Comm talk _(a ? beside the mech's name means Danny's not 100% sure that's the mech's name)

"spoken English"

* * *

_I'm Alex Ronald and this is your local radio station, 95.7 Star FM, the voice of Powell River. We're here to tell you that the government appears to be pulling out of the Sunshine Coast area! You can go back to your lake houses and fishing boats folks, they're packing up and leaving with record speed. We're assuming they found whatever they were looking for. Folks, you may still want to be on the lookout for anything strange, who knows what those guys left behind! It looks like this story has closed, but we'll let you know if it gets reopened any time soon._

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**Danny**

The two voices coming through Bluestreak's speakers are so annoying... and insulting... and rude. Very rude. Bluestreak told me they're twins, and that they're names are Skids and Mudflap, but I can't tell them apart. They keep up a stream of random chatter as Bluestreak and I cross the border. There are no problems, and the officer lets us go through with only the standard questions.

Then the tones of the two voices changes. They sound worried.

_Skids?: Hey, yo, Bluestreak, there's a Con comin at yah fast. _

_Bluestreak: ETA?_

_Mudflap?: Bout 40 minutes._

Con? As in convict? Or something worse?

"Hey Beau?"

"Yeah Danny?" Bluestreak's voice sounds strained.

"What's a con?"

_Skids?: Woah. Hold up. You didn't tell her about the Cons? The frag man?_

_Mudflap?: Yeah man, that' ain't right!_

I feel more than hear Bluestreak's sigh. "Cons, which is a term short for Decepticon, are our enemy. More often than not they have red optics, and we have blue."

Two cars, one obnoxious green, the other blood red, pull up beside us.

_Skids?: Hey girly, it's rude tah stare yah know._

I feel my eyes widen in surprise. Those are Skids and Mudflap?

Well... I guess if Bluestreak can take the form of my late mustang then those two can take the forms of other cars.

Bluestreak coughs to get my attention. "As I was saying, the symbol above my grill, the one you were so fascinated with when you first met me, is the Autobot symbol. We're trying to stop the Decepticons."

Are optics like eyes?

How do cars even have eyes?

"Okay. Why though? What makes the Decepticons so bad?"

_Mudflap?: Hon, try fraggin everything?_

_Skids?: Yeah babe, Cons are a bunch of rusted frag-tards._

"Danny, you have to understand, the Decepticons rose up against the Cybertronian governing powers and tried to take the planet by force. They destroyed everything that resisted, and even some of those that didn't. They are monsters, Danny. Horrible. They enjoy the war and take pleasure in offlining Autobots. They are the reason Cybertron is no longer habitable."

Bluestreak's voice is trembling with the strength of his emotions, and I stay silent.

There isn't much I can say to that.

**_._._._._.4.0._._._._._._.m.i.n.u.t.e.s._._._._._._.l.a.t.e.r._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.**

**Bluestreak**

_Skids: Yo guys. We almost der. Don' be worryin._

"Uh... Beau?" Danny is looking nervous, though I'm glad she's finally talking to me again. She hasn't spoken since I told her about the Decepticons.

"Yes, Danny?"

"There's a cat thing running between the cars back there."

I swerve and almost run Skids off the road.

"Primus fragging damn it!"

_Skids: Hey man! The frag was that!?_

_Bluestreak: Ravage is right behind us._

_Mudflap: How'd he do dat? He was way behind us!_

_Bluestreak: Must have been a decoy you detected. She must have been blocking her actual signal._

"She?" Danny looks startled.

"Umm... Yes? She? Ravage is a femme."

"How can you tell? And what's the difference?"

_Mudflap: Yeah, Baby Blue, what's the difference?_

_Skids: No bot ever really explained it tah us..._

You've got to be kidding me. They're all expecting me to give an explanation for why a mechanoid species apparently has genders and what the differences are!? Ravage is right behind us!

Danny is looking at me expectantly, and I can tell Mudflap and Skids are waiting for me to explain.

Damn.

"Well... femmes and mechs have different processor types. They have different frames, and while you can place a mech in a femme's frame and a femme in a mech's frame they won't be able to function nearly as well as if they were in the proper frame."

Danny looks thoughtful, and for once the twins are silent.

Then something starts shooting from above.

A shot almost hits me, and I barely manage to keep on the road. Skids and Mudflap start swerving all over the road, and chunks of pavement and dirt are flying everywhere.

Danny is fiercely gripping the door and steering wheel, doing her best to brace herself.

I subspace her backpack without her noticing. It will save time if she doesn't have to worry about it if she has to get out quickly.

Ravage leaps in the air, and the twins both transform and start shooting at her. I hear Danny swear, and see her staring at the fighting bots in the side mirrors. "What the hell? I thought- but they- they were just-"

I hopes she's not going to freak out. That would make everything so much worse.

"-they were just cars." Danny finishes, voice trembling.

"Yeah, well, the cars were their alt-modes, just like this mustang is mine. Our root modes are often bi-pedal and fairly humanoid in shape."

Ravage twists and turns, neatly avoiding the twins and their shots with ease. The femme somehow manages to get behind Skids, and leaps on his back, claws digging into his armour.

Danny's look of shock goes straight to my spark, "You- you mean- you turn into a robot too?"

I hear Skids shriek in pain, and Ravage bites his neck cables, almost ripping his helm off.

"This is not the time for explanations, Danny." I break and turn, door opening as I pull back the seatbelt to make sure Danny is out. She tumbles out of the driver's seat as I transform and subspace my rifle, quickly aiming and shooting at Ravage.

She shoves off of Skids, and Mudflap rushes to his brother's side. I don't notice anything but teeth and claws after that as Ravage rushes me. I manage to hold her off and damage one of Ravage's shoulder struts.

Then I hear Danny scream.

I duck to avoid Ravage as she leaps at me and turn to see Buzzsaw looming over Danny.

Her clothes are dirty, and I can see even from here that she'd bleeding from multiple slash wounds. A snarl escapes me and I raise my rifle to blow the vulture's processor out when agony shoots up my arm and my rifle hits the ground.

Ravage drops from my back and rips into my knees before running towards Buzzsaw. I pull out a small blaster and get off a few shots before Buzzsaw grabs Danny in his serrated claws. After that I can only watch helplessly as she is carried away. She doesn't scream. Doesn't struggle.

I can't help but wonder if she's dead or not, and whether or not it'd be better if she was.

I stare after her until I can no longer see her, and don't even move when I hear Ironhide and Ratchet pull up. One would think that, since this is the first time I've seen them in hundreds of vorns, that I'd be estatic to see them, but all I can think of is how I failed Danny.

She helped me get to my comrades, the least I could have done is returned the favour and kept her safe.

I failed.

And now she has to pay the price.

* * *

:( Told you it'd be not-happy.

Thoughts?


	7. Midnight

_[979]_

**Warnings: **Danny is depressing, and gets tortured.

This is where things get truly sad, and they don't really get better from here...

I'm amping the rating up to an M, because really, torture is nothing less.

* * *

**Danny**

There are few things I am sure of any more. In the last day my car has been destroyed and replaced by an alien that, as it turns out, is actually a giant army-robot-thing that was just pretending to be my car. Then I'm attacked by huge cat and vulture machines that are apparently fighting a war against my car and his other car-friends.

Now I'm being carried to who-knows-where by the scary vulture at a very high altitude, and I'm terrified.

I'm also very, very sad.

I'm probably going to die, and I never said goodbye to anyone. Not properly, as if I was never going to see them again.

Yeah, I told everyone I was taking a surprise road trip, but that's all it was supposed to be.

A road trip.

Not a death trip. I'm supposed to be able to go home and be there for my friends and family.

I'm supposed to be there when Victor's cat has kittens, and he's supposed to let me have one.

I'm supposed to be there for my brother when he graduates high school, and when he finally tells us all that he's asked his girlfriend to marry him.

I'm supposed to be there to get a job as a nurse so I can help people and watch as they get better, or cry next to their families as they get worse.

I'm supposed to-

Really. I'm supposed to be anywhere _but _here.

Being carried to my death by a freaky large metallic vulture.

Quietly I mouth the words "I'm so, so sorry," over, and over again as tears stream down my face. Desperately hoping that somehow, somewhere, my family and friends will hear me and know that I never meant to leave them like this.

After hours of being carried the vulture starts descending.

I'm unceremoniously dropped onto the ground, and my legs collapse.

I hear the vulture chittering at the cat in some strange language.

The cat looks at me, and I without warning it leaps forward and slams me into the ground.

It (how could this thing possibly be a 'she'?) leans down so its muzzle is directly above my face.

It growls, and suddenly snaps its jaws. I flinch, knowing I could have been dead right there. Then it draws back and, red optics flaring, drops a tiny elliptical object on my abdomen before leaping off me.

The little object suddenly expands and little spikes shoot from it and slide under my skin. Before I can think to scream an electric current runs through me, and everything goes black.

I wake up an undetermined amount of time later, strapped to a table far larger than I am. I look around in panic, but can't see into the darkness that is the rest of the massive room I'm in. There's a light source above me that illuminated the sterile table I'm on, but I can't see anything else.

Quiet footsteps echo around the room a door hisses open to my left.

I turn, and into the light steps a massive, red-optic-ed mech.

Everything that I am recoils from the mech in front of me. Everything. This mech is glaring down at me with such obvious distaste and intrigue that I cannot help but cringe, his single glowing optic leering down at my vulnerable organic body.

He speaks, but how he expects me to understand his language I will never know. When I don't answer, his optic starts glowing. Brighter and brighter it gets. I can't see anything but the terrifying red as he leans over me, optic nearly touching me as I shake in fear.

He growls something else in his language, deep voice causing the very table to shake.

"I don't understand," I whisper, desperately hoping that he can. I hope he knows what I am saying. I hope, beyond all hope, that something good will come of this.

It's all I can do.

Hope.

A fist slams against the table next to me and I flinch away as everything shakes, a loud _boom _echoing around through the darkness. All thoughts of hope quickly disappear as the reality of my situation is harshly forced to my attention.

Fluids are flying from the mech's strange mouth and covering me as he continues to growl at me. I whimper as it burns my skin, eating away at my body.

He straightens up, optic flashing once before dimming slightly. He turns abruptly, and I try to see where he goes, but the rest of the room is so dark.

I hear a clatter, and then booming footsteps as he comes back.

He hold up something I have no name for, and in the light above my table I can see it's stained a multitude of colours.

The lifeblood of other poor creatures? How many beings has this horror tortured? How many before me have been strapped to this table fearing for their existence?

The horrifying tool is brought closer, closer to me, until it's almost touching my lips.

A spark jumps from it, landing on me and burning my skin. The tool is moved towards my chest, and more sparks flit from the end to land on me. The faint small of my body burning makes its way up to me, and a tear escapes, rolling slowly down my cheek.

The monster above me seems to grin at my pain, and touches the tool to my skin.

An electric shock arches through my body. I try to scream, to show my agony in the only way I can, but nothing comes out. My voice isn't working.

I am truly helpless.

* * *

I'm such a horrible person.

Thoughts?


	8. Prussian

_[682]_

Chapter is called Prussian, because on the shades of blue page, it was the darkest/one closest to black.

**This is the final chapter of Blueward Bound! **_What a crazy week..._

You'll all probably hate me for this...

Huge thanks to everyone that reviewed and stayed with me through this! You guys are amazing.

**Warnings: More torture is mentioned, as well as death.**

* * *

**Bluestreak**

Ratchet manages to stabilize Skids while we're at the attack site, and puts him in the back of Ironhide's alt-mode. I barely manage to transform, and almost go into stasis as warnings flash across my vision. I ignore them, knowing that Ratchet won't let me go offline.

We all make our way back to the air strip where the plane is waiting to take us to the Autobot base. It pains me to think that we were so close to safety, so close to finishing the mission, when everything went wrong.

There are multiple humans milling around and shouting at each other, and each one reminds me of how I failed Danny. They're so similar, with their fragile organic bodies and their compassion for us. I can see several of them shooting Skids and me concerned looks, though they're careful to stay away from the energon pooling beneath us.

Ratchet works diligently to repair Skids the whole flight back. Ever so slowly the energon stops pooling around him, and we all relax a bit when his optic flicker and he comes online.

Then Ratchet turns to me, but can only order me to be careful and head straight to the med bay as we start to descend.

We all pile out once the plane has landed, and there, waiting to greet us, is Optimus Prime.

He looks as regal as ever, standing before us. All of a sudden the thought that I should be ashamed to present myself in such poor condition flits across my processor, but I beat it back.

Optimus doesn't care about appearances. He's just happy we're back.

He takes in the shape of Skids and me with optics full of nothing but concern, and he waves us by towards the med bay. I pause beside him as he gently rests a servo on my arm, and my spark fills with sorrow at his words.

"Welcome to Earth, my friend. I wish you were coming to us under better circumstances."

An image of Danny laughing flashes across my vision, and it's all I can do to keep the tremble out of my voice, "As do I, Optimus Prime. As do I."

__._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

**Danny**

I can feel him pull me apart, his one red optic full of morbid curiosity and glee at each new piece of me he discovers and pulls from my body.

He's long since peeled back most of my skin, and I honestly don't know how I'm still alive.

I never though it was possible to live through this much pain. My voice gave out hours ago, not that I have the energy to scream any more.

I can feel the exact moment I give up.

I'm so tired.

The pain is still there, but I simply don't care.

I can see the red glow of his optic, but I don't care.

I'm ready to die.

My family will move on, eventually.

I got Bluestreak safely to his comrades. My mission is done.

The bones and ligaments of my left hand are slowly examined and removed, one by one. I can feel them as they're ripped from my broken body. Can feel the empty space where they used to be.

I did everything I could. All things considered, I did quite a bit.

I met an alien. Got him across the United States border. Got him to his friends. Nobody died.

Except me.

If this monster lets me die, that is.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the feeling leaves my body. Not in any sort of pattern, but in random patches.

First I can't feel my hips. Then my legs. Then my arms. Then my chest. Lower legs. Upper arms. Feet. Lower legs.

Last thing to go is my head, and then my vision goes black.

He is letting me die.

A sense of relief sweeps through me.

I hear him utter what sounds like a curse, but I don't care.

I'm dead.

I feel no more.

* * *

Thoughts? The sequel is up, not finished, but up. Post-Mortem Sally.

Again, thank you to everyone that has managed to read this through!


End file.
